A Riddle

I'm not a historian.

Even though I love history and many subjects with in that field of study, I can say that and lose no sleep. Over the years I have especially loved delving into the history of my family and my hometown. Older folks throughout my life have shared stories with me, sometimes they may not have even been directed at me, I just happened to be in the room. But today someone is on my mind because I have spent hours talking to one little lady in particular. She on one sofa and me on the other; discussing family and life. Sometimes I wish we had counted those hours for some reason, but then again it's not the actual time that mattered.

Have you ever been invited to a party and you were the first to arrive? It's an odd feeling to walk into a room that is ready for something, but not yet there. Vacancy can be uncomfortable. To go even further, have you walked into a home or an apartment that you were going to buy or rent, opening the door to find it empty? Sometimes that creates a different feeling. You may have the eye to say - my sofa will work there or this could go here - but if you can't it's just an empty place.

As long as I live, in my imagination I will have a room with those two sofas and me and that little lady. I don't need the walls, the carpet, I don't have to have all that. Those are just things. But I do need that memory, I need that idea of peaceful talk that could be idle or  far reaching. Today or tomorrow I might share a story with a friend about 1945, and that same friend might think: why do you know this and why do you care? My only answer for that is, I know because of those hours on a gray sofa talking to that little lady. It's part of me.

It may be that I am an old soul, it could be because I spent so much time with older family members when I was growing up, I can't pin point how this happened but I know a lot about the past and that helps me to be excited about the future. It's the fine line that I have found in being able to look back, but not try to go back. To live in the now, but know about what was.

This may sound like a parable and maybe that is how I have to do it. Maybe this is a story that I am not yet ready to tell. Maybe today for once I am at a loss for words. I can't put the key in the door to lock it because it has to stay open. It has to always be there for me...it's my safe place.

In yesterday's blog I touched on memories and love. I shared the feelings and thoughts of my cousin. I made a comment about memories that today I feel compelled to amend. I said something like… memories don't go away. Let me retract that by adding most of the time. Sometimes we forget...and that's okay too. What's important is to have people around to pick up your slack when you need to prop your feet up and rest a while. Maybe this time I get to pick up the rope… I'll keep telling the stories.

As I look back over this entry it just reads like a riddle, and maybe that is appropriate. The band Five For Fighting wrote a great song about this sort of riddle. Joni Mitchell touched on the same idea in her monumental song Both Sides Now. John wrote about it in Revelations. All through history people have tried to understand this riddle we call life, and not one of them has the right answer. There is no right answer, it can be left to the ages. For now I guess we can just feel...happy or sad, whatever emotion that overtakes us and I guess we'll have to do that tomorrow too. That's life, it's all part of living the riddle. Hopefully we smile more than cry when we look back over our shoulders. I hope to laugh too, that always appeals to me. But this time I will just have to throw in a little bit of everything and turn my head quickly…and then smile. Didn't you know I'd have to?